


the one who stands on the sidelines

by masamune11



Series: o brother who's not mine [4]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bharatayuddha!Arjuna, Bharatayuddha!Arjuna is Permadi, Bharatayuddha!Karna, Bharatayuddha!Karna is Surya Atmaja, Emiya is a natural sass, Emiya's Perspective, Gen, Prelude, Tags to be added as this fic grows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14138706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: How the stories unfold, through another's eyes.In which Emiya is secretly a schemer of unintended consequences.(Chapter 6 serves as a bridge to "A Reflection".)





	1. Arjuna

**Author's Note:**

> This is an exercise for me to write 1k to 1.5k words per chapter. My imagination runs wild every time, so I need to rein it in... but deliver well-meaning story. The story will focus on the Wrought-Iron Hero Emiya, who encounters the brothers in many operations conducted by Chaldea.
> 
> I will be writing 6 bite-sized fic, though the number may increase. Wish me luck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arjuna did everything in grace unfitting of a mortal. The arrows that he released from Gandiva thrummed like thunder in spring, his steps fleet like a rolling fog, and his gaze... those brown eyes twinkled with pride of a warrior. He moved and fought like a force of nature, the wrath of Heavens in a case of mortal making. He was divine but mortal, and Emiya would not lie that the sight of him made his heart skip a beat.

If compared to others in the past, the summoning of Arjuna, the Endowed Hero, was nothing exceptional. It was a summoning of servant just like any other, a clean one because he was the first to be summoned from his legend, so there was no one to contest his existence. Upon his introduction, his master's shoulder sagged almost in relief and Emiya shared his sentiment; the last time a certain King of Heroes and King of Knights were summoned almost consequently, after all, was the moment which his master realized that servant-summoning really determined the fate of Chaldea as a whole.

Emiya still remembered the fight that ensued between two parties, for he was the one who mediated between those two, being the first servant to be summoned by his master and all.

Arjuna himself was not someone whose character he was unfamiliar with. Long before his contract with the World as its 'mercenary', Emiya had learned about Arjuna's tale. It was a story of a man who had to endure the cruelties of his cousins, who sacrificed and was blessed by the gods in turn, who won the hand of his woman only to share her with his brothers, who rushed to the battlefield and bested his rival out of spite, only to find out that his rival had been his long-lost kin. He was a complex character, in whichever ways Emiya examined him, even when the text depicted him in various simpler values.

When he first laid his eyes on Arjuna, though, Emiya saw nothing of such.

Arjuna did everything in grace unfitting of a mortal. The arrows that he released from  _Gandiva_  thrummed like thunder in spring, his steps fleet like a rolling fog, and his gaze... those brown eyes twinkled with pride of a warrior. He moved and fought like a force of nature, the wrath of Heavens in a case of mortal making. He was divine but mortal, and Emiya would not lie that the sight of him made his heart skip a beat.

Then came Karna, the Hero of Charity, the one who put the seeds of doubt in Arjuna's heart (not that Arjuna would openly admit to it).

The signs were apparent in the subtle inelegance in the way he moved, the way fury dominated his words whenever he spoke with (or about) his brother, thunderous steps he took as he stomped away from a verbal fight that he lost--

\--the emptiness in those brown eyes as he gazed at the white wall of the cafeteria, in yearning.

Emiya was on his cafeteria duty then (out of the goodness of his heart... alright, so maybe he was there to kill his boredom) when he noticed Arjuna's particular bout of an oddity. He had heard about Ritsuka's disastrous explorations at Okeanos. It appeared that his beloved master was looking at ways to improve chemistry between teams and decided this as a good opportunity for both Karna and Arjuna to clear the air. The exploration eventually ended with a dying Karna, an emotionally-compromised Arjuna, a guilty Mash, and a forlorn Ritsuka.

Truly, a strategical disaster.

"Oi," Emiya dropped before Arjuna, halting the latter's reverie, and pushed a tray of food meant for the regal servant. "You ask for curry rice, right? Let's hear you rave about it."

He had expected that the Endowed Hero would growl in disgust and call out on him for his atrocious behavior, but Arjuna did no such thing. He was surprised, of course, but Arjuna only  _looked_  disgusted and then started digging into his curry rice. Brown eyes widened in surprise as he savored the spicy food. "...It is delicious."

"High praise, coming from the Prince of  _Indraprastha_ ," Emiya jabbed, carefully veiling his own bemusement at Arjuna's further scowling. He could not help but pick on Arjuna's tenseness; it had always been this kind of guy who picked on Emiya's sarcastic side the most, a person so brimful in pride that he could not care less of the people around him.

"I do not understand your hostility towards me, Emiya," Arjuna spoke levelly, trying so hard to keep some sort of fury away from his tone. Emiya noticed this, of course; how could he not, when how he acted right then was contrary to Emiya's observation. "Have I done something to aggravate you?"

At his words, Emiya only cocked his head to the side. "I never mean to offend you in any manner. I am afraid to tell you, however, that I do not possess a level of tact which any royalty deem acceptable," he replied, pressing his bullshit level to an all-time high because his tact is worth only to those whom he cherished, damn it. Arjuna seemed to catch on his posturing too, though he should be mustering every inch of patience from every corner of his being.

"Then it is a shame that this gift of cooking came with such brazen upbringing," Arjuna clucked his tongue, his haughtiness welling out like geyser bursting out of rocks, "Had you been in my era, your culinary expertise alone would win yourself the position of a  _Vaisha._ Maybe it could have cured you of impertinence."

Emiya could only howl in laughter. Trust Arjuna to patronize and compliment him at the same time... not that the red-clad archer held it against him. Not everyone can get along with his prickly personality, after all. "I suppose I owe  _your highness_ an apology, then?"

He thought that Arjuna would raise to take the bait, but the Endowed Hero merely bit his lips and spooned a portion of his curry rice. Arjuna merely glanced at nothing, particularly avoiding Emiya altogether, as if this whole situation reminded him of something else. Emiya used to see such gaze on his face, particularly during his early tenure as a Counter Guardian. 

"I know someone like you, once. He might not have spoken much, but much that came from his lips were either blatant or downright insulting," he hummed, a tinge of melancholy mixed with distaste, "the better part of his character was probably his generous upbringing, though that was not enough for me to forgive his worse slanders. That generosity exists in your food, I believe, and unlike what that man from my past, yours eclipses that deficient attitude... so I shall let it pass."

The Wrought-Iron Hero could only blink and then howl even further. In this transient life as a servant, never had he been called generous in his pursuit of culinary adventure. Arjuna's comment amused him, but that emotion was nothing more than a side-thought in his mind; seeing how those brown eyes became grounded once more put his mind at ease. 

It was nice to know that his cooking was able to stave off despair.


	2. (Surya) Atmaja

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lancer appeared unfazed through the whole ordeal, his hand casually twirling his weapon with a grace of the divine—one that stunned Emiya so thoroughly he spaced out, long enough that it warranted Atmaja’s sharp glare.
> 
> Emiya only cleared his throat and returned to his duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a total of 1.4k words.
> 
> Also in which Emiya is in love with these two going KIRA-KIRA with their weapon-handling, ok.
> 
> Un-beta'ed until further notice. If you notice any grammatical mistakes, don't hesitate to point it out to me, ok.

The first time he got to know more about Atmaja (he was still referred to as Karna) was during Ritsuka's campaign in London singularity. At the time, Arjuna had taken heavy damages, and Emiya was called in to substitute said Archer.

When he walked out of the summoning point, Emiya had expected Ritsuka's bright smile and Mash' relieved face greeting him. What greeted him, however, was the sight of Arjuna’s ghastly form being laid down on a makeshift stretcher, along with anxious Atmaja at his side. He also spotted his master at the farthest corner of this pocket dimension, the bruises on his face starting to discolor, along with Mash who was tending to her master's wounds with her meager nursing skill.

A shitty situation, far from his preference.

"The cavalry has arrived," he opened morosely and everyone in the space turned their attention to him. He did not dally with a lengthy greeting, offering only a curt nod towards both Mash and his master and other, before proceeding to where the person he was supposed to exchange with. Upon closer inspection, Emiya noticed how Arjuna's white attire was drenched in blood, his left sleeve in tatters, and how blood still trickled from his right hand.

Perhaps Arjuna half-consciously noticed his presence amidst the haze of pain, as he raised his working arm to Emiya’s direction. Only then had Atmaja realized his presence, surprise etching that non-expression. Emiya paid him no heed as he quickly made a beeline towards the wounded archer.

To think that the last of the meal that Emiya cooked for him was a half-assed curry rice... Emiya reached for that hand and grasped it firmly, as if to assure Arjuna that he would pull his weight, no matter what. Arjuna sighed at his silent declaration before succumbing to rest.

It did not take long until several backup servants appeared, ushering the wounded back to Chaldea.

Among them, he saw Spartacus and Boudicca working together to move Arjuna away to the warp point, telling them that they'll get him stabilized. With those words, they parted from the battlefield.

"...Thank you for answering our master's call," Atmaja's voice was calm, bordering on toneless, and it stole the archer’s attention altogether due to its distinct quality. At that moment, Emiya could somewhat grasp the reason why this kind of man always went under Arjuna's skin.

"Think nothing of it," Emiya lightly replied, "If you would please explain to me what has happened so far?"

Atmaja wasted no moment to explain how they arrived in this dire situation. Apparently, they were assigned to gain a foothold in Hyde Park, which was teeming with sword-bearer monsters. The plan was for Arjuna to snipe them from afar while Atmaja guarded his surrounding to anticipate surprise attacks. Emiya winced, cursing under his breath and wondered why, of all things, his master decided to guard their key Servant with one whose affinity was weak against their enemies, to begin with.

"... I can see that you understood what happened afterward," Atmaja commented with an air of solemnity, "there were several lance-bearers and sword-users who avoided our detection. By the time we realized their positions, it was already too late. The homunculi..."

Emiya could extrapolate what had happened: Arjuna likely gained those wounds from those homunculi, even when Atmaja did his best to drive the other away. At the end of the day, the only reason Arjuna endured at all was probably due to his blessed luck.

"Well then," Emiya clapped his hand as if to shoo away the foul mood plaguing the summoning point. There was no use to talk about loss in the first place, as it would only drag morale down even further. "Since retreat is not an option, then let's make a plan to finish this campaign."

* * *

The plan was to eliminate the remaining homunculi and the living books while guarding their wounded master. It was one of the best plans that he could draft at the time, though Emiya had to admit that it was a shitty plan with bad holes all-over. However, considering that there were only he, Atmaja, and Mash left for operation, he supposed that they just had to suck it up and endure.

And endure, they did. The number of enemies weathered down with every step they took until Emiya could finally see the last wave of living books. Thanking his lucky stars, he was about to initiate the battle with a nice _Hrunting_ —

—until one black homunculus lunged at Atmaja out of nowhere.

(Emiya should  _really_ stop jinxing himself.)

The good aspect about their formation—Atmaja at the front, Emiya at the middle, and Mash at the back guarding their master—was that it enabled the Archer to provide cover to either servant where situation permitted. As soon as the blasted homunculus was within his view, Emiya did not hesitate to snipe at the hostile target. As expected, it did nothing more than annoy the monster, but it was enough for Atmaja to catch it off-guard. With a quick lunge, he cleanly skewered the homunculus right at its heart. The monster shuddered, letting out a wail of distress before roughly exploded to smithereens. The Lancer appeared unfazed through the whole ordeal, his hand casually twirling his weapon with a grace of the divine—one that stunned Emiya so thoroughly he spaced out, long enough that it warranted Atmaja’s sharp glare.

Emiya only cleared his throat and returned to his duty.

The rest of the campaign was a series of hack-and-slash against their enemies, with Emiya putting more effort than what he expected. Atmaja, on the other hand, speared through his enemies with ease, each of his blow carrying so much force that he bathed in motes of red and yellow—the dispersed carcasses of their hunt. He could smell the bloodlust coming from the Lancer, and Emiya wondered whether he would face the point of his lance should he approach without caution.

‘ _Slowly, then_ ,’ he silently thought as he withdrew his bow, slowly moving towards his companion to avoid instant skewering. "That was overkill, even for you."

The adrenaline was high, and it tasted like a mixture of sweet blood-lust and frosty disdain. But Atmaja shook his head and called back his spear, for the Hero of Charity possessed nothing less than overwhelming restraint. He sighed, tired blue eyes meeting dimmed gray, and spoke, "My apologies. It has been a rather long day."

Oh, he knew that alright. Nevertheless, it did not excuse Atmaja’s brash release of control. The Wrought-Iron Hero managed an exasperated sigh, "Look, I don't mean to be callous about this, but after everything that happened, we manage to finish this campaign with a little casualty. Arjuna will not croak that easily, not while you're still around."

There was something unreadable within those blue eyes as if they questioned the motif behind Emiya's words. In the end, though, it developed into something warmer… something open.

"Thank you for your concern, Emiya, I appreciate it," he sighed, the light in those blue eyes reflecting memories worth of a thousand stories, "He may not be the Arjuna from my past, but he is still Arjuna. Every moment I spend to fight with him is a gift, as I do not have such luxury in the past."

"Even when he killed you dishonorably?" Emiya couldn't help but exclaim in bafflement.

"Even when he did just that," the Lancer replied, amusement welling from his tone as if the tale of his life was a cosmic joke that he had eventually accepted. The twinkle in his eyes, however, faded as quickly as blown candlelight and was replaced by somberness. "There were so many things which I had lost, Emiya. If I can take care what little blessing I have now, I must do so. Protecting him is also my priority.”

Whatever questions the Archer had died on his tongue because Emiya understood what the Lancer meant: to live in the past was a futile attempt. It was always better to seek and gain something from this borrowed time, perhaps to weather away past regrets… or fix what can be fixed.

“You really are something else, Karna,” he chuckled and shook his head, because what else could he say to a man determined to reach what he could? “Shall we head back?”

A nod, a proof of acknowledgment, a silent hand in friendship; this rescue mission turned out to exceed his expectation.


	3. Permadi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then he saw Arjuna strolling around his place of interest. The fact that he was in the premise was alarming enough; compounded by the fact said archer was mixing something in a bowl, his attention fixed to the cooking book which lied before him, the scene was enough to set Emiya agape.
> 
> "What."
> 
> * * *
> 
> In which _roti canai_ is supposed to be crispy on the outside—unlike _rendang ayam_ —and is made of flour, not rice flour; Emiya will guide the Pandavan Prince to cook this dish even if it kills him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, It's an update!
> 
> I tried writing humor and exasperated!Emiya but I don't think it's that good. A change of pace, still. Please forgive me.
> 
> This chapter happens right before [a name that loses its purpose](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13979064/chapters/32184150).

The first time he heard of the summoning of another Indian Hero, Emiya had this unreasonable fear that Ritsuka might have messed up and summoned either one of Pandava or Kaurava. Either of them was bad news in the first place; Chaldea already saw two opposing representatives from their era, to begin with, and the last thing they needed was someone to tip that precarious balance.

Then he saw Arjuna strolling around his place of interest. The fact that he was in the premise was alarming enough; compounded by the fact said archer was mixing something in a bowl, his attention fixed to the cooking book which lied before him, the scene was enough to set Emiya agape.

"What," because Emiya's jab lost its superpower when he was thoroughly caught off-guard. Arjuna seemed to be in deep concentration too, because he yelped out in surprise as soon as Emiya opened his mouth, his hand already reaching for the nearest kitchen knife. It took no more than a moment to point it to the red-clad Archer.

Emiya managed to restrain himself from blurting further profanities (because not only Arjuna's appearance there warranted questions, the fact that he was making a mess out of his beloved kitchen utensils irritated him), slowly building his composure back before managing a deadpan reply, "What are you doing here, Arjuna?"

At the mention of his name, the dark-haired man seemed to snap out of his stupor as he carefully put away the kitchen knife (thank god), though the man regarded him with the pride that was... different from Arjuna's?

"You may refer me as Permadi," he declared, his chin raised in defiance. Ah, there was that prideful prince, not the abashed royalty. It mattered not if this was not the Arjuna who quietly loved his half-assed curry rice (he still had not made the better version of it for the prideful Archer), both of them were born as royalty... A type of person whom he was loath to deal with. (There existed exceptions.)

"Ah, the other Arjuna, the one from far south-east. Meanwhile, I am someone unworthy of knowing your name," he acknowledged, holding back his smirk when he saw Permadi's narrowed glare. Of course, it did not stay long, because his attention was already on the pack of rice flour and broken eggshells around Permadi's mixing bowl.  _Why would he mix rice flour with eggs?_ "My question still stands. What are you doing here? No, more importantly, what are trying to do, fix a snack?"

"Such brazenness. Have you no manners at all?" Permadi muttered under his breath, slowly getting back to his mixing utensils. "I'm trying to make  _roti canai_."

 _'_ _With rice_   _flour_ ,' the red-clad archer internally moaned, because  _how could one make canai with rice? He_  decided right then that it was the last straw.

"I would like to help along with your endeavor," Emiya offered, the most saccharine smile adorning his face. He knew how to make roti cane (or _roti maryam_ , as referred by some other groups from the lands of South-East Asia) courtesy of his travel when he was still human.  _That food was most certainly not made of rice flour_ , and he was not going to invite food apocalypse into his beloved kitchen. "If you would let me?"

For a moment, Permadi looked as though he wanted to forgo that offer with the intention to safeguard his pride. But then, he looked at his cookbook, the ingredients lying all around him, pondered on the reason behind his action—something greater than his pride—and then finally relented with a sigh. Perhaps the man already realized that he faced difficulties.

"For the greater good, I shall allow it," he offered the bowl to Emiya, as if expecting him to fix its content, You have not stated your name."

Trust Permadi's proud disposition to never let go any slight done to his person. Emiya managed a chuckle, "Emiya, summoned under Archer class."

He ignored Permadi's widened eyes; if the haughty prince found something in his name worth noting, such knowledge paled before Emiya's determination to save  _his_ kitchen.

* * *

In the end, much to Emiya's surprise, Permadi easily compiled to every direction he uttered. While it might save him from immediate food apocalypse, it baffled him that the proud prince would confer to his direction.. as if Permadi held some inkling of respects towards him (Emiya was sure that the latter  _did not_ ).

The recipe took little effort to make; they finished cooking a batch in barely an hour. By the time he organized the nicely roasted roti buns on a plate, Permadi was already off to the nearest condiment set and pulled out honey jar... Much to Emiya's dismay.

"You are eating this with honey," the Wrought-Iron hero deadpanned, because, as far as his taste buds acknowledge,  _roti canai_  should go with curry. He had planned to make the curry after he finished the  _roti_ , but it appeared the prince had an eccentric idea of his own.

"No,  _he's_  eating this with honey, even if I have to shove it down his throat. Gods know that he needs pampering now and then," Permadi clarified, a tinge of pink nestling on his cheeks as he realized that he had confessed his reasoning of cooking the food in the first place. The white-clad archer cleared his throat if only to quell his embarrassment.

"Nevertheless, I thank you for your support, Emiya. It appears that Arjuna is correct about your culinary prowess," he stated, his eyes narrowing back to his standard disapproval gaze, "though you could do well to tone down the prickliness."

It would not be his first time to be reprimanded, but it was still his first time that someone actually cited his competence based on another's experience. Like handling any other reprimands, Emiya simply ignored it; he could not help that the capacity for utter sass had been wired into his character the moment he made the contract with the World. Besides, sometimes it was better to see how people ticked, their reaction providing him the information to design his next approach.

"I'll try, but no promise," An upturned lip, then followed by a glance of distaste from the other archer. "Now then, since you want the  _roti_  dyed in sweetness, we should—"

There was the sound of the kitchen door opening, both cutting Emiya's speech and igniting another bout of irritation. Who was it this time? Could he only just deal with the far south-east prince with insensible taste? Could fate just spare his poor luck rating this one time??

"Permadi," a voice he recognized too much, one that fell too flat in the air yet carried a grace that raised it to nobility. Atmaja entered the premise with light feet, the Lancer's blue eyes carefully scanning the room until they stopped on him. "Emiya?"

"Karna," Emiya greeted, gray eyes glinting with suspicion because  _wasn't this far too convenient?_  "Are you here for the same reason as your brother?"

For a moment, Emiya was so sure that he could feel Permadi's killing intent welling out of his being because Atmaja noticed it  _too._ It went out like blown smoke as soon as Atmaja threw his brother a concerned look, leaving Permadi looking as if he was caught stealing a cookie. ' _Well that was weird,_ ' Emiya thought for a moment, glancing at the  _roti,_ then Atmaja, and finally Permadi.  _'Unless_...'

"Ritsuka calls for Permadi and Arjuna. He needs every archer available for the upcoming quest," the Lancer explained, easily cutting through Emiya's reverie like sliced-butter. "Except the ones in a holiday, Emiya, so please enjoy your time off."

Thank heavens for small mercies.

Much to his prediction, the brothers were quickly involved in a discussion among themselves, particularly about the logistics required for the next quest, who their team would be, the formation of their attacks, and so on. He left them to their own device, at least until the two of them decided to leave the kitchen to meet with their master. Only then that he cleared his throat, turning their heads towards the forgotten Archer.

Then there was a very smug smirk etching Emiya's face, as he spoke, "Permadi, aren't you forgetting the  _roti canai_  for your brother?"

Jackpot.

It took a moment for his words to sink in and garnered a reaction. The first to react, of course, was Permadi whose face turned beet red from embarrassment (or rage? Emiya was sure that the latter was wishing for his extermination at the time), followed by Atmaja who cocked his head in question and then noticed the dish on the table. "Oh, you made this, Emiya?"

Of course, he did, but where was the fun in truth? "I wish. It is all Permadi's effort."

He solemnly swore that the same killing intent from the younger brother swelled up at his gesture, going so strong that Emiya internally recoiled. Oh, and he thought that he saw Permadi throwing him another evil glare, until Atmaja actually reached for the disputed roti and ate one. For a moment, another silence descended, one that followed with Atmaja's blank stare at Emiya (of course he knew that the Archer was lying under his breath) and then an acknowledging glance at his brother (because of course Atmaja knew how this situation could deteriorate if not handled well).

Tact was never Atmaja's forte, but he knew appreciation was definitely due. So Atmaja smiled, a soft understanding gesture, and replied, "It's delicious, Permadi, thank you."

Whatever rage was buried deep within that man suddenly receded, replaced by abrupt embarrassment that set him flustered. Composure lost, Permadi only averted his eyes away from the rest of them to avoid further flustering and murmured, "Emiya helped."

"Only a little," Emiya smoothly defended as he halted himself from being strafed to smithereens; the moment he snorted at Permadi's countenance, he was pretty sure that the younger brother would stab him with an arrow. "Now, if you would all please get out of the kitchen so that I could clean?"

At his cue, Atmaja ushered his brother first to walk out the room, noticing that Permadi's patience was already at his limit; Emiya was not exactly polite in his words, and there was so much of brazenness Permadi's pride could take. He did not forget to bring the  _roti canai_  with him, packing it with Emiya's help, before setting off himself.

Of course, he departed not without leaving a comment. "I don't understand why you're insisting that it's Permadi's cooking, but thank you."

Emiya only waved and replied, "Go, Ritsuka has waited for too long."

A nod, then a swift exit following his younger brother; Emiya was once again left to his own device. He had thought that Permadi would be just like his other: a proud prince who would never admit that even  _he_  had imperfections. Then there was Arjuna who would never yield to anyone, his determination clouded with unease whenever he saw Atmaja (Emiya noticed his behavior).

They always revolved around Atmaja, didn't they?

Emiya sighed to himself, the thought of those three intertwined in some cosmic joke made him grit his teeth. Something major was bound to happen among those three, and he just hoped that he would be spared the fallout. Though, knowing his poor luck, he supposed he should not even hope in the first place.

But for now, Emiya would focus on cleaning his kitchen first, one possible apocalypse at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you don't know what roti canai is, it is a favourite, well-beloved food in south-east asian region, a derivative of paratha flatbread. It usually goes with mutton curry, but some regions eat it with honey, sugar, or nutella (the thais, maaan, I applaud their food always). I usually have it with honey or sugar myself ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, remember y'all, _roti canai_ is crispy on the outside, soft on the inside.


	4. Emiya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way Arjuna’s shoulders slumped upon his words were alarming, so much that Emiya wondered himself if he himself had the capacity to handle this mess. He had been a warrior and an assassin, but never a goddamn psychiatrist.
> 
> Shit, he had unsorted baggage of his own.
> 
> * * *
> 
> In which Emiya finds out that Arjuna is not as perfect as he displays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This happens at the same timeframe as [a name that loses its purpose](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13979064/chapters/32184150).
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

There was a sense of unease when Arjuna asked him to meet, something that was akin to the calm before the storm. The prideful Prince of Pandava was not one to seek something from another, more so from a nobody like Emiya, of all people. However, when the man spotted the red-clad archer brushing up his melee skills in the training room, a hint of desperation overshadowing those brown eyes, and then asked him to meet sometime after dinner, even Emiya could not help but question what was going on. In the end, Arjuna said nothing save for a request to discuss some night after. So Emiya concurred to his wish (he would not risk an arrow launched behind his back) and prepared himself the next day, after his shift in the kitchen ended.

Thus, here they were, at the corner of the empty cafeteria, away from the scrutiny of others. The two empty plates that held their lunch were neatly put aside—the real curry rice that he managed to smuggle out of the kitchen—yet despite their delicious lunch (Arjuna even complimented him, noticing the real effort he put into the food), Arjuna's moroseness did not seem to lift.

Another silence which Emiya couldn't bear for longer, so he prompted the discussion first, "So, what can I do for you?"

Brown eyes looked at him unsurely and, at that moment, Emiya was sure that the other would not cave to his urging. Arjuna betrayed his expectation as he retold the baggage that weighed his mind: the shared dream he had with their master (this, Emiya was not privy to; he ought to talk to Ritsuka soon), the summoning of Karna from his past (that, he heard about; Permadi's Karna even went so far to declare Atmaja as his new name to avoid further confusion), the past that they shared (another clusterfuck problem), and the problem of his flawed thought process.

The last one, Emiya had expected to come out of Arjuna's lips.

"I christened it as Krishna. It is myself, the part of me that cannot be declared as heroic," he confessed, "It is my failure."

Emiya wanted to refute that statement, having encountered people with Arjuna's outlook himself, but he opted to let it lie. There was more, his gut feeling told him, and Arjuna was not yet comfortable to disclose what he had in mind. Reaching for his tea—one that Arjuna made, out of politeness—Emiya let his glance linger, gesturing the other to continue his confession.

Arjuna bit his lips, “It is my failure that I fell to my anger and killed my archenemy dishonorably. This, I have come to terms with. But now that I am faced with the person whom I have murdered, I,” he swallowed, and Emiya could only imagine the thorny lump of a dilemma which he was forced to swallow, “I want to repent, to get even over our duel, I…”

“You want to pay your sin with your life,” Emiya stoically cut into the prince’ rambling, his thought loss on that one time he wished to erase his younger self out of the dismal belief that it would erase his existence as a Counter Guardian. The way Arjuna’s shoulders slumped upon his words were alarming, so much that Emiya wondered himself if he himself had the capacity to handle  _this mess._ He had been a warrior and an assassin, but never a goddamn psychiatrist.

Shit, he had unsorted baggage of his own.

Those sagging shoulders, however, went tight with anger; whatever vulnerability that Arjuna displayed was quickly replaced by distaste (and Emiya  _understood;_ it was easier to cover one’s vulnerability with spite and rage—even if it was to oneself—if only to gain some sense of control). Arjuna’s brown eyes met with his grey ones, cold but determined, “No, there is no honor in losing my life when I have a vow to uphold to our master. Even if I do wish so, I shall not."

‘ _You are trying too hard for yourself_ ’, he mused, pondering on the times when Arjuna would sit at the corner of the cafeteria, throwing secret glances at the Lancer once or twice with contempt ( _longing_ ). Emiya would know because the damned prince had gone for his fill of Emiya’s cooking (just like many of his close allies) almost every day, most of the times with Karna seating at the opposite side of the room. 

He looked at his compatriot once again, facing the steel behind those brown eyes, and bet. “You know, if Karna is as you have described,” ‘ _like my foolish past life_ ’, he mentally added, “then I am sure that he has gotten over his murder and forgive your misdeed.”

That steel of determination changed into something raw, like a storm trying to crush what was laid in its path. “You presume too much,” Arjuna rebuked, his words possessing disgust. He had long already folded his hands over his chest as if such method would create space between them.

“No, hear me, Arjuna,” Emiya implored, trying to maintain the discussion longer because  _unsaid matters would result in more strife, “_ I have observed Karna and Atmaja long enough. While Karna did not possess a degree of eloquence that Atmaja bore, they endured the same gruesome experience, albeit with some differences. Yet even after his murder at the hand of your doppelgänger, do you see any malice possessing Atmaja at Permadi? Because I don’t, so the same must also be true for Karna. I advise you this: make peace with your past and build something new between you both, Arjuna.”

Only then that Arjuna looked so close to strangling him. Emiya wondered what was stopping the other’s hands on his neck at all, because Arjuna was already standing up, his eyes fixed on the direction of the kitchen exit. Emiya threw a lazy look at that direction and quickly froze, seeing their person of interest appearing suddenly in this premise. Karna had not noticed their presence yet, though that might change soon enough.

Arjuna was quick on his feet; before Emiya could even reach out, the man was already fleeing from the scene through another exit door. The sudden movement, of course, attracted Karna at once, prompting said Lancer to approach the archer who was left behind.

“It is nice to see you again, Emiya,” Karna greeted, the touch of edge in his voice, and Emiya knew that this would be a bothersome discussion, "I heard about the travesties at Fuyuki Singularity."

He knew it was bad when Karna resorted to small talks. Emiya opted to resign to his fate; this conversation would surely bite him back in the ass, but it was one that he could not avoid altogether.

“Yes, messy business,” thus the conversation went on.

* * *

“Emiya, I need a favor.”

Emiya was in the middle of his kitchen-cleaning shift when Ritsuka barged into the empty kitchen (he had always been the last to return to his quarter), his master’s dark hair jutting to every direction as if he had just gone through the snowstorm outside. The Wrought-Iron blinked owlishly at his master's inquiry because surely Ritsuka realized that whatever request he asked, Emiya would do it?

“Anything, Master," his gray eyes narrowed in suspicion though; something big must be unfolding, "though for you to ask me that in the first place is unlike you. Has something happened?”

For a second, Ritsuka's face twisted into something morose, as though he was forced to swallow a bitter pill worth a thousand menace. "I need to dreamwalk with Arjuna... and I need your participation in it."

Dreamwalk; sharing dreams with him one's servant to tackle one's subconscious problem.

It had not dawned on him, the reason why Ritsuka asked his cooperation on this matter. Ritsuka sometimes mentioned about his experience of sharing dreams with several servants, himself not included, and the danger it posed to his psyche whenever he and said servant encountered hostile factors. Though both triumphed against their trial, in the end, there were times when his master brushed with death one time too many.

(For that reason alone, Emiya could not find in himself to get along with Edmond Dantes.)

If he asked for his assistance now, then, did that mean his master had little faith that Arjuna would protect him?

"Ritsuka," he called his master's name slowly as if to emphasize his point, "Sharing dreams is an intimate matter, I am sure you realize this. Arjuna may not approve."

"Oh, but that's the thing," the master huffed under his breath, "I'm here on his behest because he is too ashamed to ask for your help. That, and he also believes that he may not be able to protect me in this dangerous quest."

"Then why go through this at all?" The red-clad archer demanded because surely Arjuna understood that this venture would unnecessarily risk the life of their master. Should they fail to guard her, they could kiss goodbye to the salvation of humanity. The King of Mages would not keel over by himself, after all. "Why not find other solution, one that does not risk your life?"

For a moment Ritsuka looked at him as if he had grown a second head. There was that stubborn glint in his eyes, one that foreshadowed most of his reckless decisions in the past, and Emiya could not help but wonder why he himself would go so far for his master's sake (Emiya preferred pragmatic non-suicidal approaches towards any kinds of problems, after all).

"Because this problem will surely bite us back if we do not handle this quickly," his master pressed, the stubbornness in his eyes gentling into concern, "and I am worried for how long Arjuna could endure with his dilemma."

He recalled their short discussion, the one time that Arjuna sought him out to disclose his problem (even until now, he was surprised that Arjuna had the willingness to go to him, of all people). Emiya would not presume that the Awarded Hero was not handling his problem well, but desperation ought to prompt someone to do something foolish. Emiya needed nothing of such.

Ritsuka still looked at him, all hopeful and imploring. Thus, Emiya sighed and caved, ignoring the warning bells of his instinct. "Very well, I will help. Could you please stop with the puppy eyes, Master?"

Honestly, there was almost nothing of Ritsuka's requests that he could refuse.


	5. Arjuna, Karna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think," Emiya interjected then, right after Arjuna's lamentation, "that you are overthinking this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well look at the person who tries to pick up this story again~
> 
> Since I am done with the angst next door, I can now write something more freeing than heart-wrenching angst. That besides the point, though, this chapter completely skips what happens during chapter 2-3 of [a name that loses its purposes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13979064?view_full_work=true), referencing to Emiya's bedridden screentime.
> 
> Also it has been proven that I cannot write shorter than 1.5k for this fic, apparently. This one even goes to 1.9k and I just-- I can streamline the fic no more, so I will have to live with the fact that I have failed my personal commitment. The shame.
> 
> And yet here I am, encouraging you to enjoy this should-be-shorter chapter. It has not been beta'ed, but I have strived to proofread it to the best of my ability.
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy!

According to Da Vinci, the damage that Emiya sustained during his dream-walk was not catastrophic—at least not so much that it warranted a full week of rest. But Nightingale was less than pleased when Emiya tried to wiggle out from his mandatory three-days rest. With the power bestowed upon her as the head nurse of Chaldea, she managed to put him on bed rest for the whole week: the first three days for physical observation, while the last four were for mental observation.

In Emiya's humblest opinion, however, she was not healing him; she was killing him with boredom. Emiya opted to follow her recommendation, lest she threatened bodily harm upon his person, 'for the sake of his well-being', no matter how twisted it was.

At the very least, he had survived the first and the second day, so far. Many servants had come to visit his healing room, some dropping by to say hi (the hounds of ulster were looking too smug for their own good), some expressing their sympathy (Arturia even brought him a copy of Water's Margin to kill time), some others simply existed to rub on his misfortune (to think Gilgamesh would parade into his healing ward and laugh on his failure; Nightingale was a fearless nurse who cared not of anyone's class, though, and she successfully drove out the King of Heroes from the ward).

Then came the third day.

The fact that a certain Archer had not made the visit did not escape his mind. Emiya had not heard the full story from a more valid source (Nero's iteration, told on the first day of his admittance, was aggrandized, but what should he expect from one who breathed grandiose and narcissism?), though he could safely conclude that something happened between the Endowed Hero and the Hero of Charity. Therefore, he had expected that none of the two would show up—ever.

There was a knock on the door, before it swung to reveal the one person whom Emiya had not expected at all. Arjuna stood there, looking as if he did not deserve to be there ( _nonsense_ ), and gazed at him diffidently. It seemed that he was satisfied with blocking the door, so Emiya bit back a huff and urged, "Don't just stand there, Arjuna. Please come in."

Arjuna at least made the effort to look affronted by such rude ushering. If he could still be bothered by inane impertinence, Emiya supposed that Arjuna was not really dispirited. The white-clad Archer stoically strode inside, picking the nearest chair to Emiya's bed and dragged it next to where he lied. They let the silence hang in the room for several minutes, Arjuna not knowing what to say while Emiya waiting for the other to start. 

Much to his relief, Arjuna eventually mustered enough courage to strike up a conversation. He started with an apology for becoming the center of this problem. He explained about his complicated past, one that was not shared in the books, and the alter-ego (he noticed Arjuna shifting uncomfortably on his seat) that figuratively dropped the moon on him. He let Arjuna continue with his explanation, even when Emiya had known about this since the very beginning.

(Emiya had always been prepared. Thus, when Ritsuka asked his assistance, his very first request to his master was to disclose everything relevant to this endeavor. Ritsuka obliged and proceeded to explain his dream-sharing experience with Arjuna, their encounter with Karna, who turned out to be some sort of Arjuna's conscience, their eventual clash with Krishna, who represented the Arjuna's selfish aspects that he had tried to suppress since he was just a child, and Arjuna's eventual reconciliation—his acceptance—with Karna's death.

Watching Arjuna iterating the story firsthand only confirmed what he had already known.)

It was only until his 'post-death' that Emiya started paying attention. Arjuna told him how Karna entered the fray when their duel went dour and slain Krishna; how the latter listened to his dying words, ones that Arjuna ardently rejected but could never admit openly; how Arjuna lamented on Karna's decision to kill his 'other self', for he feared its repercussions in the future.

"I think," Emiya interjected then, right after Arjuna's lamentation, "that you are overthinking this."

The white-clad archer had the decency to look outraged as if Emiya had just stepped on his pride (on the record, he never meant to, even when Arjuna felt so), but the bedridden Archer continued on, "No, listen. Karna saw you on the brink of defeat. He leaped in any way to save you. In case of yourself, believe me: he only holds you in his best interest."

Arjuna's facial features twisted quickly from rage to pain, and Emiya wondered just how much problems this man had before he finally broke. 

"Then he is a fool," Arjuna bit back, frustration deeply seeped into his words, "for interfering in what is not his business. The world— _this_ world—still worked in ways that I remembered. There will be repercussions for breaking _dharma_ , and I cannot just stand on the sideline and watch him make foolish decisions, again and again—"

Emiya gently grabbed the other's wrist; gently, because even he could sense that Arjuna was on his brink of a breakdown. It—Emiya needed him to hold himself together. "Arjuna, he won't know if you don't communicate with him."

For a moment, Arjuna looked like he was about to throw him to the floor, or choke the other archer to a more permanent death. In the end, he slumped on his seat, casting his gaze downward as if slapped by that statement. Emiya took this chance to lure back the other's attention.

"You can't just do nothing and expect things to change," Emiya reminded, "Talk to him, Arjuna. Promise yourself that you'll do so."

Arjuna did not immediately nod, but when he did, it was as subtle as spring breeze—and it made Emiya hope.

* * *

Arjuna fulfilled his promise, half an hour after he made it. Emiya was not sure how to feel about this, as he was now left in the company of an emotionally-drained now-unconscious Archer and an unsure Lancer. The fact that none of them was eager to start the conversation only increased the awkwardness between them.

Alright, perhaps not Karna. If he was anything that Emiya observed, then the Lancer would treat him as if he did not exist during the last hour, in which Arjuna poured his heart out. It meant that the awkwardness lied solely on Emiya's side—that every sliver of discomfort that he experienced right then was purely from himself.

It was some moments later that Karna eventually moved, carrying his brother bridal style despite his more slender stature (Emiya envied that B-rank strength, just a bit) to the sofa opposite of the room. Karna gently laid Arjuna's exhausted form there, before returning to where he sat. If the glare in his eyes were more begrudging than curious, Emiya had only his own wariness to blame.

"My brother is lucky to have you as a friend," Karna decided, in a tone almost similar to Atmaja's yet strikingly different in its color, "I thank you for your continued support."

Emiya certainly was not expecting gratitude, out of every possible statement that this man could throw. "He was wasting away and being a burden to our master," Emiya replied, arms folded defensively as he threw up walls. No, _he was definitely not flustered_. "If someone does not offer to help, he'll continue to weigh down Ritsuka."

Karna still regarded him curiously, as if Emiya's every word contain treasures worthy of his attention. The moment passed again, then, and Karna only nodded as if in agreement. "Very concerned too... and loyal. Good, good..." He commented further, though there was a faraway look in his eyes. Emiya wanted to take back what he had said to Arjuna previously: even when they shared the same story, Karna was definitely different from Atmaja.

Considering what they have to go through, should he be surprised? And why was that faraway look linger still, aimed at him? It was not like he had done something wrong during their last incursion—

—Emiya blinked, understanding dawning in his eyes. He did something wrong—something that left bitterness and anger in the minds of those who had seen him fall. "Are you here to apologize, Karna?"

It was a pretentious question, but what else did he have to strike down any meaningful conversation? He was not going to put his hope on Karna's eloquence. For a brief time, Karna looked surprised (Emiya did throw a curveball), though it quickly shifted to moroseness. "No, but to thank you. Had you not shown up, we will not be here, though I regret that it has inconvenienced you more than you deserve."

"But it was necessary," Emiya replied, finality seeped in his tone; he would have none of this guilt-ridden shenanigans. "And I am glad that I have taken such measure, results aside. I would have taken the same decision if the same situation arises."

Perhaps Karna realized that he had been outplayed in this argument, for he quickly resigned with a sigh. "If you say so then, Emiya."

The silence between them did not last long, perhaps with Karna being quite uneasy towards the man who had saved his life despite what little interaction they had so far. Eventually, the Lancer rose up, shooting him another one of that curious glance, and spoke, "I should leave you to your rest. I'll be leaving with my brother."

That was the moment when Emiya actually stared at the Lancer as if he had grown a second head. Arjuna was still lying unconscious on the sofa as Karna closed in, the latter effortlessly lifting the Archer's form and walked away. When he reached the door, Karna turned, a gracious smile plastered on his lips, "Get well soon, Emiya."

The door closed, leaving the stunned red-clad archer alone to ponder on the repercussion of this: Lancer Karna, quietly carrying Archer Arjuna in bridal style, to his room; the other servants who witnessed this odd display; the embarrassment that Arjuna would have to swallow for the rest of his days.

The expected amount of bitching that Emiya had to endure several weeks to come (because talks about one’s mental condition should have elevated his relationship with Arjuna from mere acquaintance to somewhere-in-friendship-but-not) made him wince. The sudden commotion outside of his room, too, only increase his dread further.

Oh, he could smell the rumors, _the horrors_ , of the upcoming week, with many servants spooling rumors on top of rumors surrounding those Indian brothers; he could sniff the problems tailing them when the gossip teams rained their curiosity on them.

Emiya groaned at the scenarios blooming in his mind, the latter ones seeming more disastrous than before. "Can I just have a single week in peace, not in pieces?"

He recalled his poor luck rating and silently wept.  _Of course not._


	6. Ritsuka, Rama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His attention quickly went to Rama, who had made his presence almost passable, eyes wide as though he had not expected this development. Another rash and inconsiderate decision, it would seem, and Emiya would never hesitate to aim at the cracks of Ritsuka's decision if he was given the opportunity. "Rama won't cut it—no offense, Rama-san," a disgruntled growl, but nothing more, "Not with where you are going to. Unless my math is very wrong,  _3000 BCE is far further in the past than the Grand Caster's assigned 7th Singularity_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the long-awaited update *cries*
> 
> To be honest, the purpose of this fic was to close the Permadi and Atmaja situation. But in the end, I change my mind. This chapter has to become something else in order for a new project to start. Well, hopefully this will pave a new adventure.
> 
> You might want to finish reading [A Wish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14287743/) to understand the context of this fic.
> 
> Beta'ed to my best ability. Please enjoy.

On the sixth day of his doctor's order, Emiya was desperate enough to risk amputation by escaping his healing ward (Nightingale was convinced that the only measure available to keep him on his bed was by clipping his wings, figuratively speaking). He had planned this occasion meticulously, placing every well-meaning projection-skit in nooks and crannies of his room—skits that would activate at his cue to provide distractions against the guards. The red-clad Archer would start with his plan right when Nightingale visited her, ambushing said woman, then activating his traps to further the chaos that ensued, and finally escaped his cage before the dust settled.

Imagine his dejection when the one who visited in her name was his own master.

(No, Emiya could never prank his master unless baring  _no other viable option_ , not when the fate of the world was forced on his shoulder. Preventing world destruction was a worthy cause, taking priority before his selfish wish to cease and for that reason alone, Ritsuka was worth his service—and his propriety.)

"Hello, Emiya," a short, business-like greeting, followed by a self-invite into his healing ward. There was a tightness bound to his master's form, though, one that set Emiya's senses on edge. "I am sorry for not visiting earlier."

The Archer had a very good idea why it was so, unfortunately. In the previous days, Tamamo had come to give updates on the goings-on around Chaldea, including the uproar around Karna's recent antics, carrying Arjuna bridal-style; a friendly face-off between two lancers "to defend a certain Archer's honor" (he opted not to know the details of it), and the predictable chaotic dinner session led by Kiyohime (he winced). In the middle of them was Ritsuka, who had to manage his (unruly) servants, keeping them on a tight (invisible) leash—all of this,  _without Emiya's support._

This was exactly why he was not allowed to stay off the team for more than three days:  _no one servant in this whole organization had the pragmatism to assist their master_ (aside from Mash, at least) _._

"It's fine," the falsely bed-ridden Archer replied with the same weariness as his master did, the thought of having to put fires down around the facility already weighing his mind already. Well, at the very least, he would have his master's permission to clean up. "You have been busy, and we all know how taxing it was to manage everybody. So really, it's fine."

Ritsuka offered him a wan smile and sat on the chair next to him. "You make them sound as if they were children with misgivings."

Emiya shot him a glance that easily spoke  _'aren't they?',_ to which Ritsuka only challenged with a raised eyebrow. ...If his master wanted to defend his other servants, who was Emiya to comment?

The tension around his person yet remained, clinging like a persistent oil on a fowl's feathers. Emiya scrunched his eyebrows in concern, finally reaching out with some questions of his own—a small prodding. "There is something else, isn't it?"

Ritsuka squeaked under his accusation, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "I want to apologize, for causing you to be admitted here in the first place," he said, earning him another pointed look of confusion. His master stifled in his place once again and bit his lips—a sign that he was not done.

"You were supposed to materialize with me, together with Arjuna. However, somehow, you got transported near to Krishna's position. That..." Another weary sigh, then a bow, "That was on me. I could have done something—it was  _my dreamscape—_ and I have exposed you to unnecessary risks. I'm sorry."

He already had his suspicions when his master looked uncomfortable around him, but to think that Ritsuka would verbally word it so solemnly... Was the incidence really that bad? Emiya let out an exasperated sigh and gestured his master to come closer. Ritsuka complied mutely, shifting his seating so that he could better pay attention.

" _Ritsuka,"_ and his master raised his head, shocked blue eyes meeting with grey, for the servant rarely addressed his master with his first name. Emiya opted to ignore his surprise and continued, "Having been told the story behind this endeavor when you asked me to go with you, I have acknowledged the risk of annihilation. I have done everything I could so that we can see the conclusion of this mission, as much as you have done everything in your power to keep any casualties to a minimum. Will you apologize for a job well done? I don't think so."

There was a pause that spoke of guilt, born form Ritsuka's discomfort, but Emiya was glad to see it fade away, replaced by a realization that went hand in hand with a thankful smile. Oddly, it tugged at Emiya's heartstrings, kicking it to beat more quickly (Emiya would never acknowledge this out loud, though).

"You're right," the master let out a sigh, "It's better to prepare for the next obstacle before us, isn't it?"

At his words, Emiya could not help but let a smile of his own be known. How could he do otherwise, when those words were his counsel on the night of Ritsuka's breakdown? He still remembered his master's trembling form after the disastrous raid that almost sent Arjuna back to the Throne of Heroes, providing moral support together with the Shielder servant.

Amidst this unfortunate event, Ritsuka evolved (and he would keep evolving still; Emiya vowed to be at his every step, providing counsel where he can).

"You're learning well, Master," he replied, a tinge of pride in those grey eyes along with something else (something which he himself had no courage to divulge at that moment). Ritsuka seemed to glow too, perhaps from his encouragement... or perhaps from the lack of emotional baggage that he managed to shed away. The red-clad Archer himself sensed how the tension fell away from his master's personage, how it also set his own shoulders at ease—

—and reminded him of his plan to escape the vicinity.

There was a mischievous glint flashed in those grey eyes, along with a playful smirk. "Now then, Master, can I coerce you to get me out of here? Surely you agree that Nightingale's advice was over the top?"

Ritsuka snorted, his face twisting with glee—and somehow, Emiya found himself grinning ear-to-ear too, even when he had expected the outcome of his question.

"And risk death by castration?" His master replied, "Nope. You once said to choose my battle carefully. Sorry, Emiya, but I'm sitting this one out."

The Archer simply barked out a laugh. 

* * *

The ground beneath him was stained red with blood, while the air was as stifling as moments before a great storm. The scenery before him was of a wasteland devoid of life—an empty prairie that reminded him of Camlann (a scenery from when he was just a boy, the back of his right hand stained with proof of a  _Master)—_ saved for the hunched form of his master.

His master, genuflecting before the mangled corpses of his servants—corpses that refused to disappear in motes of gold, dissolving like _spiritron_ ought to, and eerily remained with stains of black and red.

His master, broken and torn, suspended in the everlasting self-torture of misery, his back facing him.

His master accompanied by two figures whom Emiya knew well. Both stood to Ritsuka's side, the left one draped in a red-black cloak, possessing hair as red as blood, while the other one clad in a white robe, drowned in dark complexion befitting a man whom he knew  _oh so much._

They turned their heads at him, both  _Karna and Arjuna_ (in forms which he never  _recognized),_ with malice glinting in their eyes and a pair of almost soundless voice: "You're too late."

He would have cursed at them, inquired how this was happening, but the scenery before him dissolved in black. Emiya found himself grasping for thin air, the plafond of healing ward greeting his sight, with heart beating far too fast to his liking.

Servants did not dream, but they could  _dream walk_. That fact alone made him clench the sheets,  _in worry._

* * *

On the first day of freedom, Emiya walked into the command center, his footsteps heavy with ire and  _fury_.

The command center, usually filled with chatters of Chaldean staffs and few standing-by servants, were silenced as soon as he roughly closed the door, effectively turning the heads of those in the vicinity. The red-clad servant willed his anger to cease, especially when he caught Ritsuka's veiled glare at him, along with the servants standing behind his master—both Arjuna and Karna posing behind Ritsuka, ready to pounce at him if he as much made a hostile move.

(Did he look so imposing,  _so willful,_  that even two of the best Servants that Ritsuka summoned looked at him with wariness in their eyes?)

Emiya would never do such a thing, of course. But he would never stand for what Ritsuka had decided  _for_ him.

"Master," Emiya growled, exasperation apparent in his voice, "Please reinstate me into the team to investigate the new Singularity." 

The red-clad Servant registered the hesitation in his master's gesture as if their talk yesterday never happened. He looked too tense, the fear in those blue eyes too apparent (and how did neither of the Servants standing behind him  _not notice_? Were Mash and Da Vinci the only people who could read through Ritsuka's bullshit?), and yet the boy's lips turned into an imitation of firmness, before declaring, "I'm sitting you out, Archer. I'll be taking Rama in your stead, along with the rest."

His attention quickly went to Rama, who had made his presence almost passable, eyes wide as though he had not expected this development. Another rash and inconsiderate decision, it would seem, and Emiya would never hesitate to aim at the cracks of Ritsuka's decision if he was given the opportunity. "Rama won't cut it—no offense, Rama-san," a disgruntled growl, but nothing more, "Not with where you are going to. Unless my math is very wrong,  _3000 BCE is far further in the past than the Grand Caster's assigned 7th Singularity_!"

Emiya's glare shifted to the head of medical division—the interim head of Chaldea, at least for the time being—and saw that pink head bobbed down, away from the bickering between them. Honestly, Romani should have known better and interjected Ritsuka's worse decisions.

"It is my idea, Emiya. Neither Roman nor Mash had any say in this," Ritsuka held his ground, blue eyes shining with the determination that rivaled that when they decided to dream-walk together—a determination combined with a (weary) puppy eyes look. "You're not going."

"Then you'll have to settle with one fewer servant, Master."

Everyone's attention was now on Rama, who had finally decided to actively enter the discussion. There was steel in those red eyes, accompanied with a solemnity that weighed too old for a mere heroic spirit (one that he saw every day in the mirror, sometimes reminding his eternal job before being inherently summoned to, literally, save the world). Ritsuka looked like he wanted to plead his case, but Rama beat him to it first.

"Loathe as I am about this, Emiya is right. I will only be a burden there. Instead, take Arjuna and Karna with you, for their knowledge of their own homeland shall serve you well. Like I have Hanuman by my side on my quest, you will have miss Mash to help you see through this quest. And Emiya..."

For a moment, Rama looked at him wistfulness that was not like his own... as if someone had hijacked his place and spoke his/her piece. "He is a seasoned warrior, as much as he is a wildcard. He will become your greatest shield, your sharpest swords, your fiercest arrow—he can be whatever you need him to be. Why waste such talent, in favor of dear old me?"

The King of Kosala walked out of the room as an enigma, leaving silence in its wake—and both Emiya and Ritsuka flustered where they stood. 

* * *

Thirty minutes before their ray shift, Emiya encountered Rama on his way. There was something off in the way he carried himself; the King of Kosala used to look vigorous as if nothing in the world could bring him down. But now, he could only see the weariness in those red eyes, as if he had just uncovered a terrible truth that would crush the world.

Emiya almost wanted to joke:  _who are you and what have you done to Rama_?

What came out was this: "You could have chosen to sit back... therefore, I thank you."

In contrast to Emiya's expectation, Rama only nodded in solemnity. "Your company is among the requirements to ensure the survival of our master through this ordeal. You have to be there  _because you will be whatever he needs you to be_."

And in these words that Emiya confirmed that  _something was wrong_. His journey as a human, before his eventual ascension as a Heroic Spirit (somewhat; surely Counter Guardians earned enough merits to be recorded as a hero of sorts) took him to many interesting places. One of it was to a devoted study of divination, involving a series of visions and jumbled wordings—much like what Rama was doing right now.

"How do you know this?" Emiya insisted because if Rama had the knowledge to ensure Ritsuka's safety, _the Archer_ _had to know._

(He must, because as much as he wanted to entrust his master to the two Servants who had earned his acknowledgment, the memory of their lookalikes, manic and bloodlust, _remained_ ).

"Because Sri Krishna has spoken to me, limited his words may be, of his end at the hand of the Traitor," Rama answered, the red in his eyes shifting to darker shades that almost mimicked  _brown._ The Saber servant held his head high, as if ordering his soldier to obey him—to heed his counsel, "and it is because that  _you are not there_. So, walk with him and be whatever he needs you to be: a weapon, a killer, a friend."

There was a finality in his words that made his inside froze, because, as much as he assumed the outcome of him failing those, Emiya needed for the Servant— _the one acknowledged as the Seventh Avatar of Vishnu_ —to make the answer to his question be known: "What if I fail to be  _it_?"

"Then nothing will stand between the Grand Caster and the destruction of humanity. After all," a long-suffering sigh, "If our master cannot even overcome this obstacle, what hope he can have to face the Grand Caster? If you wish to fulfill your proper role, Heroic Spirit EMIYA, your success is necessary."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was said that Krishna was so powerful that he could change the fates of his brother, Balarama, and Gatotkaca's brother, Antareja, by dropping 'ink' unto their stories. At least in Pewayangan Jawa. Communicating with a replica of the 7th Avatar's soul should be a piece of cake, even if such method transcends space and time.
> 
> But then again, such Singularities cause many disturbances anyway -- enough for me to take creative liberties anyway :")
> 
> See you soon on the next fic!


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